TOW The Dream
by itsafour
Summary: Wet dreams can sometimes be way too vivid... - Standalones set on season 4. Shameless, kinky smut. First chapter is Mondler&Chanoey (at the same time), second and third chapters are Mondler.
1. Chapter 1

_**Author's note: This is a very personal kink of mine, and since I'm full-time mondler trash but occasionally chanoey trash too, I thought "why not?"**_

 _ **I just adore Chandler and want him to get thoroughly loved, s**_ _ **o yeah, it's a chandler-focused threesome in a wet dream. I hope this is enjoyable for someone, anyone, really HAHAH**_

* * *

Getting over an ex-girlfriend who you found yourself madly in love with was a very difficult task. The fact that you've overcome your commitment fears, and even risked your relationship with your best friend to be with her, only to end up being cheated on – that made everything worse.

Chandler had really believed Kathy had been the one, and now that he didn't have her anymore, he was at a loss what to do.

Picturing himself with other people was almost happening – well, he'd thought it had been happening when the girls started talking about other girls. He had three very attractive female friends, and picturing them engaging in some girl-on-girl action was hot. Picturing himself in the middle of it made everything better. Dreaming about it was the cherry on top, but his brain loathed him as much as he loathed himself, so the promising dream had been ruined. _Tonight marks the second night of phase three_ , he'd thought after drinking himself to sleep, in the hopes of having better dreams this time.

Everybody had left and he was already in bed, tiredness overcoming his entire body, dark room and comforting silent – _here we go again, dreamland_.

He opened his eyes again, but he could tell right away he was dreaming. He loved that kind of dream – when things felt real but he could tell right away they weren't. When he moved his body to the side, he gasped in surprise by seeing no one other than Monica there, looking at him with a devilish grin. For a moment he wondered why her of all people, but it made sense – he had always found her the most attractive woman he had ever met. If anyone would exclusively show up in a wet dream, that would most definitely be her. Well, he wasn't sure yet if that was going to be a wet dream, but he sure as hell hoped so. When he trailed his eyes over her body though – _yep, definitely a wet dream_. She was lying on her side, supporting her body on her elbow, and her head on her hand. She was wearing black underwear – just a very tiny ensemble of bra and panties. Her body exposed, her skin looking soft as he (had always) imagined. Knowing it was his dream, and he could do whatever he wanted with his brain's version of Monica, he moved his hand to cup her face, kissing her softly. She moaned in his lips, moving her own hand over to his neck, and getting her leg over his hips. He was definitely hard already, enjoying the kiss that albeit unreal was unbelievably delicious. All of a sudden, he'd noticed they were naked already – _for once, thanks, brain! Good work! Way to go!_ It would be great to spare some time from undressing and put it to use for the sex part. (Once more) he would be dreaming about having sex with Monica, and he knew that would be great. The kissing had gotten pretty intense already – they were abusing each other's lips, nibbling and licking and going for necks and shoulders and ears. Her hands were tugging on his hair, and he couldn't wait anymore, so he moved one of his hands to reach down for her genitalia, groaning against her lips when his fingertips touched her entrance and felt the wetness between her legs.

Suddenly, he felt a hand around his penis, and was confused for a second since he could feel both her hands still tangled into his hair. Next thing he noticed was the fact that the hand around his member – squeezing it and pumping it up and down already – was much stronger than the softness he'd expected from the girl he was kissing. Right after that, he could feel some hot breathing on his nape and some chest hair tickling his back. He stopped the kissing to turn around to see Joey, of all people, naked, behind him. He was about to curse his brain for screwing up with yet another wet dream, but then he caught sight of Joey's flushed face and found himself getting even more aroused than he was before.

Joey's hand never stopped pumping his dick and Monica's hand moved to fondle his balls. Chandler just gasped at that. He was in turmoil; wonderful sensations taking control of his everything. His evident agitation didn't seem to stop the other two. Joey craned his head to capture Chandler's lips and Monica moved closer to lick and suck on his neck. Chandler kissed Joey back – Monica's lips were amazingly soft, and he didn't expect Joey's to feel that soft too, but as he kissed this mirage of his roommate, he got lost into how good it felt. Joey's kisses were rougher than Monica's – he bit on Chandler's lips a little more forcefully than she did. Chandler felt like he could enjoy both ways of being kissed, so he turned his head back to Monica, kissing her again while Joey took care of his neck this time. His hand was still in her genitalia, so he spread her labia and entered her with his finger, adding one more next while rubbing her clitoris with his thumb. Then he moved his head down her body to lick a nipple, sucking on it, enjoying the (very loud) noises she was making. Being curved like that gave Joey an opportunity to trail Chandler's vertebrae with his tongue, and also made Chandler's ass press against Joey's groin areas. And, yep, Joey was already as hard as a rock. Chandler expected to jump at that, running away from another man's penis so close to his only entrance, but it was his dream, so nobody needed to know how much he was enjoying all of that. It was just unbelievable – feeling Monica's insides with his fingers, while feeling her hard nipple with his tongue and teeth while, at the same time, feeling Joey's tongue licking his back, causing him to have goose bumps all over the place, and his friend's penis rubbing against his buttocks. It was too much – if he wasn't dreaming, he would probably pass out because it was too much, _really_.

All of a sudden, Monica's head moved again, and she brought her lips to his ear, whispering with the lowest, most sensual tone ever "I want you to get inside me." He could swear he was one hundred percent capable of coming on the spot. Joey withdrew his hand, as if he was in tune with Monica's next movements – _they probably are, since they are both inside my brain_.

Monica just got away from him, fully lying on her back, and just opened her legs as wide as possible, an inviting expression on her face. Chandler groaned again. He put his head between her legs first – that scent coming from her entrance was delicious, he had to at least taste her pussy, even if it was for a second – then he kept going up until he was resting his body between her legs, his swollen dick rubbing against her entrance, teasing her until she looked like going crazy from the stimulation. Not wasting any other second, he slid into her, listening to her moans and allowing himself to be as loud as her. It felt absolutely amazing. Her inner walls were already clenching around him. Her insides felt hot and wet, and he started moving his hips, getting in and out of her, which dictated the frequency of her noises. Not much after that, he felt Joey's broad body getting behind him, his hand moving under his ass to touch his balls while he pounded into Monica. It just kept getting better, really. Joey's lips moved to his neck then, sucking and licking it while his other hand grazed over Chandler's nipple, pinching one of them as he still kept thrusting into Monica. The lips on his neck moved up, getting to his ears, and Joey's raspy voice announced "I want to get inside of you."

Chandler groaned at that. What was going to happen, he wasn't sure of, but suddenly Joey had lube on his hands, squeezing a tube to coat his fingers with it. _Wow, talk about realistic dreams_.

It felt fairly real the moment Joey's index finger started rubbing on his asshole, coated with the very cold gel. It felt even more real when it started going in. More important than feeling real, it actually felt amazing. He stopped moving his hips, but was still inside of Monica when that happened, and though he didn't think it would be possible, he could swear that what was happening made his own dick harden even more. Joey was very careful; he shoved his only finger in and out until the slight discomfort vanished completely, then slowly added more fingers until there were three of them inside him.

Chandler had his eyes tightly shut. He opened them for a second, watching Monica's face completely taken over by lust, as if watching him getting fingered like that while still being inside her was the hottest thing ever. He dropped his head to kiss her again, her inner walls still clenching around his penis, Joey's fingers still thrusting into him. Suddenly, he was left with nothing behind him, and he knew what was next. He could feel the head of Joey's member poking into his entrance, obviously a little larger than the previous fingers, but not that much. He tensed, waiting for his best male friend to enter him so that he could finally move inside his best female friend. He could hear Joey's groans as his penis got in slowly, inch by inch, until the man's balls touched his ass. Chandler groaned himself, unable to deal with all the pleasure that washed all over his body. Joey kissed his shoulder fondly, and Chandler craned his neck, so that he could kiss his friend again, while Monica bent her body up a little to reach Chandler's nipple with her mouth, licking them and sucking on them while the two men kissed. She then plopped back onto the mattress, her hands tugging on Chandler's hair as he started pounding into her again and Joey thrust into him at the same time.

Seriously, there couldn't be anything in the world that felt better than this. Fucking someone while being fucked was probably the best sensation ever, Chandler concluded as the three bodies moved and squirmed in pleasure. Monica's and Joey's noises mingled together, making Chandler head spin as he was literally in the middle of it. His hand was caught between his and Monica's body, as he rubbed her clitoris while getting in and out of her, so she was the first one to come, screaming his name and virtually collapsing under him. Joey was next, thrusting into him harder and harder until he felt his release filling him up completely. And then he lost it; his own release filling Monica's insides, both men falling on the bed too, creating a mess of spent bodies and touching limbs on his mattress.

Chandler woke up at that moment, his morning wood as stiff as ever, so he was forced to touch himself to release the tension. Getting off took seconds as his mind was still packed with all the dirty images from his dream.

He cleaned himself up, and got dressed, leaving his bedroom to get something to eat. When he got to the living room, who did he see? Yeah, of course, his two friends (whose images his brain had freely abused) casually talked while eating some pancakes on the foosball table.

"Hey, you're up!" Monica smiled. That only made Chandler furiously blush, as images of her flushed face while she squirmed under him replayed behind his eyes.

"Hey, buddy, are you okay?" He looked at Joey and it didn't help at all, as he could remember what it felt like to have that guy inside him.

"I'm f-f-fine." Chandler stated hastily, and rushed to the bathroom. He couldn't hide there forever, but maybe he could wait for a little while before seeing them again.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's note: Hey there again! I'm back again with more dirty sex, this time mondler-only haha**_

 _ **I hope you enjoy it! :D**_

* * *

Monica owned her sexuality – she was never ashamed of her intense sexual desire, her kinks or her fantasies. She talked about her sexual experiences with no embarrassment at all, and even when she had wet dreams with people who were too close to her (namely, Joey or Chandler), she would tell everything to the girls with every little detail she could remember ( _to the girls_ , that's right, because talking about those dreams with the boys would only guarantee annoying gloating).

Monica had been, however, a little ashamed of her most recent, recurrent, wet dream, to the point where she hadn't shared this particular one not even during her latest girls' night with her female friends.

Why, one might ask. The reason was threefold.

First of all, she had been dreaming about sex with Chandler.

Now, that wasn't anything too weird. Even Phoebe and Rachel had had sexual dreams with him, more than once. Whenever they did, they would all share details, laughing at the absurdity of it all – Phoebe and Rachel found dreaming about him in that situation something out of this world; when she was the one having the dream, however, Monica didn't find it that absurd (no one needed to know that part). What made this particular dream something she'd been willing to keep to herself was the fact that it had been happening way too often. She'd been having dream sex with Chandler practically three or four times a week for a month now.

Which led to the second reason why that was a secret: she'd been feeling weird about him in real life too.

Whenever they gathered in apartment 19 (which was the girls' apartment now) or in apartment 20 (which was the boys'), as they had always done for the last 5 years, she would feel a little too hot. Sometimes she would even feel herself getting wet just by looking at him – memories from her dream would take over her mind and anything could turn her on. His fingertips grazing her skin, his lips stretching into a big smile, the shape of his neck, his open legs when he sat on her couch; pretty much anything had become a trigger to her desire.

Then, there was the last reason why she couldn't talk about the dream to anyone.

See, Chandler being a recurrent presence in a wet dream? That was okay. She knew she could take her girl friends' teasing. The fact that she could get turned on by him in real life? That was fine too. She could blame it on the fact that it'd been too long since the last time she'd had sex. She was sure her friends would understand that.

What Monica couldn't admit to anyone – not even to herself, as she was still in a state of denial – was the fact that she'd been having dominance sex in her dreams, in which she was the _submissive_ one, being tied up and everything.

Monica loved being playful in bed. She loved being kinky. She was usually the one to suggest trying different things with her previous boyfriends – it was funny, the fact that her most serious boyfriends, Richard and Pete, had been way too traditional for that. They had both been a little shocked the time she mentioned she liked the idea of videotaping their sexual encounters. They had also been a little uneasy when she suggested tying them up – Pete had accepted, which had led to a very fun night, whereas Richard had been too reluctant, and Monica needed her partner to be as into it as she was, so she'd just dropped it immediately.

That's what she liked: being in control. She loved being the dominant one. She loved choking men, tying them up, having total control over their bodies and the whole act.

In her recent dream, she was the one relinquishing control, letting her body being used and played with any way Chandler wanted to. In real life, she would never, not in a million years, do anything like that. Well, that's what she originally thought, but since things felt so good in dreamland, she had even been considering the possibility of, one day, maybe…

Before that though, she had to make peace with the fact that she could enjoy something like that, which was something that still hadn't happened.

That night, they gathered in apartment 20, as usual, and, once more, scenes from her dream flashed behind her eyes every time she saw Chandler moving. He was wearing a loose tie, and Monica could easily picture him getting use of that tie with her. Monica gulped, trying to control her imaginative mind in order not to let her face show the despicable things she was thinking about.

As he usually did, Chandler sat next to her, and Monica wondered if she was exuding heat because she sure felt like she was burning up inside. When she retreated to her own apartment, she felt like she could breathe properly again. As she readied herself to bed, she knew she would be dreaming about him.

The exhaustion from her busy day took its toll on her. She drifted off way too soon, and just as soon she found herself in a dark room. She almost laughed out loud at her brain – she felt like she was in a clichéd BDSM porn movie (she blamed the boys for having that obnoxious non-stopping porn session going on for the last few days). It was a small room with dark walls and chains hanging everywhere. She was with her arms pulled above her head, her wrists locked in handcuffs that connected to one chain hanging from the ceiling. She was completely naked. When she looked ahead, she found him. Chandler stood there in dress pants and a button down white shirt with an open collar. He looked casual and absolutely sexy. His lopsided grin was there, looking the same as the one she always saw in real life, and his hands were in his pockets. He looked at her with that boyish expression he usually carried all the time. If she didn't know already how that dream would go, she could swear she would've expected him to jump from the shock of seeing her naked. No jumping at all; he slowly walked towards her instead.

She held her breath, feeling like a helpless prey. Monica shivered with anticipation at his every unhurried step. When he positioned himself right in front of her, just inches apart, his smile got even bigger.

"Hey, Mon. Comfortable, aren't ya?"

She rolled her eyes, admiring how well she knew that man that even her dream version of him would sound so similar to his real life self.

With no warming at all, his right hand moved quickly to her neck, choking her a little. His left hand went to her hip, then travelled around her sides, going up until it rested on her left breast, softly caressing it at first then squeezing much too strongly right after. His lips touched hers, a much too chaste a kiss in the beginning, one that somehow didn't match the scenario they were in. Not much longer, he darted his tongue out, invading her mouth mercilessly. She moaned into the kiss, feeling every hair on her nape get up when her own tongue met his.

He moved his mouth away from hers, sniffing her armpit with his nose then using his tongue to lick the area. The fact that it was all a dream allowed her to be so very loud from the get go – actually, that part wasn't much different from reality.

With the fingers from his right hand still locked on her neck, the ones from his left hand moved south, tickling the curls on her mound. Everything happened so painfully slowly that even though it was just the beginning, Monica almost felt like begging to be touched already. Acting like a perfect sadist, he only moved his fingers around the area where she wanted to be touched, but never really touching her there – he grazed her inner thighs, then her lower stomach with the back of his hand, then moved up again to pinch both her nipples. When he moved back down, the grip on her neck became even tighter – she felt like she was about to choke for real when he finally touched her labia.

She was obviously very wet already. His face was too close to hers, and his smile got bigger and bigger by the minute. He still had that boyish expression on, which was surreal considering what he was doing. His fingers started to explore her folds and spread her labia to slowly slide into her, then came out so that he could use her own fluids to rub on her clitoris. She wanted to close her eyes because it was too much, but she also wanted to see the satisfaction on his face as he watched her reactions. Only when he moved his head down to work his mouth around her breast area she closed her eyes shut, reveling in his ministrations. All combined, there were fingers straining her neck, something that compromised her already compromised breathing, plus his fingers rubbing her plus lips sucking on her nipples – she felt like she would combust any time soon. She also felt like her body belonged to him, like she had no say in whatever he wanted to do, and Monica never knew that being in that position could be so satisfying.

After a while of alternating sucking and biting her nipples, he loosed his grip on her neck. She took deep breaths, taking advantage of the fact that she could inhale and exhale properly again, but it didn't last long as her breath stopped on its own when he crouched in front of her.

His hands caressed her thighs – they moved up and down, sometimes going behind and up enough to squeeze her buttocks than coming back to the front, resting where her legs joined her groin. She watched the whole thing with hazy eyes, and made too many incomprehensible sounds when he spread her legs. He looked up, his huge grin making his eyes almost disappear, and his mouth went for her genitalia. He gave her a slow lick that covered her entrance and stopped at her clitoris, then moved his tongue in circles in that area, and his fingernails started clawing on the flesh of her thighs – the contrast of the pain coming from his fingers and the pleasure coming from his tongue drove her insane.

She wasn't able to focus on anything as she was drowning in all the sensations, so when she felt a finger entering her she gasped in surprise. Monica looked down and found Chandler with the fakest confused expression he could muster. She would laugh out loud if the sight of her own juices smeared around his lips wasn't so distracting and arousing.

"I'm sorry, should I have warned you?" _So infuriating_ , but she was only able to moan even louder as his finger went up, going deeper inside of her. "Nah, I guess not." With that, he added another one, resuming his previously interrupted task of licking her up. On her clit, his tongued alternated between creating circles and giving flat licks, and there was also the eventual sucking, all of that while he added one finger and another one after that, ending in a total of four fingers squeezed inside her. They went in and out, in the same rhythm his tongue moved on her clitoris. She felt her inner walls clenching around his fingers, completely sure she was about to come when he suddenly stopped everything, abruptly getting his hand out of her and moving his mouth away.

 _What a cruel, mean, evil, wicked, devilish man._

He got back on his feet, standing in front of her, much too close. He brought his coated fingers between their faces, licking them himself, then caressing her lips with them, and finally forcing two of them inside her mouth. She closed her eyes, sucking on them and losing her mind when he pushed them further, hitting the back of her throat, almost making her gag.

Monica hadn't even come yet and she felt already spent – the pent up sexual tension was too much. She just wanted to be relieved, but she could tell he wasn't ready to give her that yet. The fact that it all depended on his will was both agonizing and thrilling. All she could do was wait.

Waiting, that's what she did as he started unbuttoning his shirt. She was once again shivering with anticipation, not really able to predict what would come next.

"Y'know, I really like this shirt. I better take this off before something bad happens to it, right?"

Matching his behavior since the beginning, he didn't hurry at all. He took his time getting his clothes off, and Monica kind of wished she could be free so that she could touch him all over. When he was finally done, with his naked body out in the open – his penis so rigid it looked painful –, she licked her lips, wishing with all her might that he would enter her already. As turned on as he also was, Chandler stood there for a while, knowing that with every second he did nothing, she was getting more and more desperate. When he finally moved his feet, once again positioning himself right in front of her, he grabbed his own member and rubbed the head against her entrance.

"You really want this, don't you?"

She nodded, not trying, not even for a second, to hide how eager she was.

Instead of getting inside her as she so badly wished, he turned her around roughly. Even though Monica knew what was coming, she still felt the air being knocked out of her lungs when the sting of a strong slap burned on the skin of her right buttock. Two seconds later, the other one was slapped too. She felt his hands repeating the motion enough so that she could imagine how red her skin on the area must be looking, and with every slap she felt like the pool between her legs was flooding. Following the slapping came the squeezing. Both his hands gripped her ass cheeks and spread them apart – that made her feel one hundred percent exposed, and she loved it. She could feel his penis rubbing between her buttocks, her moaning echoing through the dark room, and then it went down enough so that its head was rubbing against her slit. His hands left her ass, one of then moving to her hip and the other back on her neck. She felt his chest glued to her back, his lips on her ears, his breathing warm and humid against her skin. She couldn't think about anything other than the body behind her and the fact that he was in charge of whatever was about to happen.

"Who do you belong to?" For a second, she wondered if, during sex in real life, Chandler's voice sounded that low and husky – she secretly kind of wanted to find out.

"You," she choked on the answer, his fingers squeezing her neck so hard it was difficult for her to speak properly.

"Oh yeah?"

"Y-yes."

The head of his member entered her, but he still didn't go all the way in. She was going crazy.

"Monica Geller likes to be dominated?"

"She does," he got just a little bit deeper, but still wouldn't fully enter her.

"Who owns your body?"

"You do," deeper, but still not enough.

"Say the words."

"You- you own my body," and her last sentence was followed by a loud groan: he finally did it. His penis filled her completely, and his own groan against her ear just added to the satisfaction of finally having him inside her.

He got it out almost completely, then got in again aggressively, slamming his balls against her entrance. Her body was crushed as he roughly fucked her up against the wall, hand still around her neck in a tight grip. His other hand moved from her hip to her clit, rubbing it in rhythm with his thrusts and soon enough she came hard – harder than she could ever remember.

At that, she woke up. She was sweating and panting, and definitely could feel the dampness between her legs. Monica's room had been formally Chandler's room, so it still smelled like him. That only aggravated her situation, and with no shame at all she moved her fingers to her sex, getting off on the memories from the dream mixed with her friend's real scent (no matter what, the scent never left that room).

After her orgasm, she recollected the scenes from her dream, unable to believe that her brain was capable of such filth.

When she left her room, of course Chandler was already there, eating cereal and reading a newspaper – she rejoiced at the fact that despite her apartment being the smaller one now, they still had breakfast there every now and then.

"Hey, Mon." He frowned. "You look tired, did you sleep well?"

She giggled. "Oh, yeah, I slept _very well_."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note: I guess you could say this is Chandler's version of last chapter.**_

 _ **:D**_

* * *

It wasn't that big of a secret that Chandler liked dominant women.

Well, sexually speaking, that is. Maybe he liked bossy women beyond that realm too, but he wasn't sure of it yet.

He wasn't the type of guy who got laid very often – despite living in a constant state of horniness, he was too awkward to make it work the way he wanted to. Also, he felt like he was too inadequate in bed. Perhaps, that was why he enjoyed being with women who took the dominating role so much. When everything was up to his will and he had to take the lead, he would get all sweaty and bumpy, feel anxious and, sometimes, be on the verge of a breakdown. When the woman he was sleeping with took charge though, it was heaven. She could boss him around and he would be totally fine with it, and much calmer too, since he would be completely sure that she was having her way and enjoying the whole thing.

And it wasn't good only for her; he liked the whole thing too. Being slapped, being ordered around, kneeling in front of her, getting his hair pulled back – once he even had kissed a girl's feet and had enjoyed doing so!

Okay, this makes it sound like he had many bossy women ordering him around in bed but the truth was: all his experience of sleeping with a kinky, dominant woman had actually happened only once, with a lady named Joanna. She was Rachel's boss – an almost comic version of a soap opera villain; that one bitch who, by having too much power, made everybody's life a living hell. The first time he went out with her, he'd been uninterested to the point of never wanting to see her again. When he'd bumped into her out of nowhere a year later – and he'd been too lonely and too horny to turn down her invitation for a coffee –, they had been able to take the relationship to the next level. It had only been one night but, boy, what a night it had been. He'd felt like his body had been thoroughly used, and he'd loved every second of it. And then, the following day, she had handcuffed him to her office chair and just left him there. That part, he had to admit, hadn't been that exhilarating – he was sure that had it taken place in his bedroom, he would have enjoyed it way more.

All the women who had come before her had been somehow bossy too – well, here comes the misleading sentence structure again; not plural, there were no wo _men._ There was just Janice. Way more traditional, but still totally in the mood of taking charge in the bedroom, Janice had always had her way when it had come to sex, and Chandler sometimes thought that that was the reason why their relationship had lasted so long (barely four months, but that was still a personal record for him).

Chandler had been lonely for a while when he'd had sex with Joanna, and even though he internally knew that they would never work out together, he already missed her. He wasn't infatuated or anything; it's just that finding another woman to sleep with him would be hard enough, and finding a dominant one could make the quest even more difficult.

That night, as they were playing cards at apartment 20, Chandler ventured into forbidden territory as his mind was cramped with musings about his three favorite women in the world and their sexual preferences.

He wasn't really picturing himself having sex with them, but just… wondering… how bossy they were in the bossy-o-meter when it came to the bedroom. First of all, he thought of Phoebe and internally grimaced, trying to erase any image his mind's eye had pictured by accident. Somehow, everything that mixed "sex" and "Phoebe" sounded too scary for him. He wasn't attracted to her at all, and, more than that, he was absolutely terrified of actually knowing about her sexual endeavors.

Then, there was Rachel. If he wanted to, Chandler could totally picture himself having sex with her – he had always found her attractive. As hot as she was though, Chandler couldn't really give it much thought. Any prospect of a romantic or sexual relationship with her sounded absurd. He assumed she would be that kind of girl who was too passive, probably taking her spoiled princess attitude to the bedroom, and waiting for the guy to always take the lead. That was fine, obviously. It just wasn't that interesting to him for it didn't match his own preferences. He would probably feel more insecure than ever if he ever slept with Rachel.

Last but never least, there was Monica. Chandler was _very much_ attracted to her since forever – he was sure that everybody, including her, knew about that. _I mean, how could I not?_ She was beyond hot, she was _the_ hottest. And this was not only about appearance – even though he had always found her the most beautiful woman he had ever met, she was hot because she had the whole package. Everybody knew that she was fairly experienced in bed, plus she seemed to have a variety of kinks – Chandler could never forget the day she'd been giddy for having videotaped her sexual encounter with her then boyfriend Pete. Being that openly kinky made her look like a person who liked to experiment things. The cherry on top was her control freak behavior. She was so _so_ bossy. She was bossy in every aspect of her life. Being like that in real life, so avid in having utmost control of everything, made him picture her being the most dominant girl ever – almost like a dominatrix, probably way bossier than Joanna could ever be (while, at the same time, being way more interesting too for the non-sex part).

Chandler sometimes wished he could, just once, have sex with Monica. That was probably something he would want for the rest of his life. _Well, I guess that will never happen, but a guy can dream._

And dreaming he did. He had dreamed of her so many times it was almost embarrassing – especially because he had enjoyed every dream way too much.

He was too tired that day – was it work? Was it the crushing pain of loneliness? He couldn't know. As soon as he plopped down on his mattress, he drifted off. What felt like seconds later, he woke up again but found himself tied up to a bed. He wasn't sure if that was his bed, or even if he was in his room. He was blindfolded too, and completely naked. Before panic took over, he realized he was in a dream.

 _Oh, great, am I going to be tortured or something?_

 _No torture, nope, not at all_ , he thought as he suddenly felt soft fingertips caress his chest and a pair of thighs straddling his hips. He was going to have a wet dream and he was definitely happy about it – being that happy about wet dreams sounded lame, but who cares? He didn't.

The woman (he hoped it was a woman) was obviously playing along with his biggest fantasy: having sex with a bossy, dominant lady who ties men up and blindfolds them. For a second, he wondered if the unreal woman would take Joanna's face to make his oneiric experience more real.

"Hey, Chandler", the voice was too close to his ear, the woman's breath hot against his skin, and he shivered all over (and probably groaned way too loud too).

The reason? Well, that was Monica's voice.

He could feel her ass over his groin and, to make things worse, she was swaying her hips terribly slowly.

 _Yeah, maybe it is torture after all._

"A little excited, aren't we?" she said against his ear, letting out a giggle while her left hand reached behind her to lightly tap on his penis. He always knew that Gellers couldn't be trusted.

"Aren't y-you, um, going to take off the blindfold?", he somehow could predict the negative answer but he _had_ to take a shot – more than anything, he wanted to see the woman above him.

"And spoil all the fun?" Her fingers pinched his nipples, and he grunted. "Nope, don't think so."

He wasn't able to move, that was pretty hot. There was Monica's ass rubbing on his dick, that was great too. But then there was that damn blindfold which denied him the view of what he assumed to be the most heavenly sight in the universe. Somehow, he stopped caring about his frustration when he felt a tongue licking his neck while slender fingers still played with his nipples and a firm, small, round ass pressed against his dick. Monica's tongue created a wet trail from under his earlobe, to his collarbones, then up again to his jawline. Then, her soft lips started leaving small pecks onto his cheeks, slowly inching to his mouth. That's when the most amazing kiss that he was ever given happened. In the back of his mind, he ridiculed himself for enjoying so much a kiss that wasn't even real but he consoled himself at the same time by using his strong belief that if he ever had the opportunity to kiss Monica in real life it would be the best thing ever – well, they had shared drunken kisses before, and those don't really count, but they had been great already.

Their tongues met, and to make things even hotter, he could hear and _feel_ her moans because she had shifted her position a little. Instead of a firm pair of buttocks rubbing his member, he felt now _a part_ of her that was very warm and very wet grinding against every inch of his very hardened dick – he was sure that that was her entrance, ready to take him in, and that thought mixed with the grinding was almost enough to give him a much too soon orgasm. Genitals touching but there was still some fabric between them – Monica was probably wearing panties or something, and probably hadn't taken them off just to send him over the edge. Chandler wished she would get it on and speed the process – if he could feel how wet she was through that fabric, which was already wonderful, being inside her would surely be a thousand times better.

She had stopped the kissing, then after that stopped the nipple-playing and Chandler begged silently that she would not get off him, but of course she did. He wondered for a moment if that would be it – having such promising dream end with dream-blue balls. His wonderings were interrupted by slender fingers caressing his balls. Since none of that was real, he was feeling no shame about being noisy – also, moaning loudly was really the only option he had when he felt the contact. Soon enough, five more fingers were there too, but wrapping around his length. They were pumping his member while the other ones fondled his balls, and everything felt amazing – somehow, not being able to see it intensified the sensations. Suddenly, there was a mouth enveloping his member. _Dear lord, I'm going to die here and this is not even a real place_. He wanted to see what was happening – more than wanting, he yearned, he longed for it. He could perfectly picture it though. Monica's lips – they were so thin and soft and pretty. They were probably stretched because she was going down on him so hard. He could feel the back of her throat hitting his head and as much as he wanted to see his dick filling her mouth, he could easily picture her eyes closed as she, strenuously, swallowed him whole like that – it would probably look like those moments in which he'd seen her eat big things, shoveling big chunks of cookies and bread into her mouth.

She kept going until he could no longer feel her mouth around him and he almost cursed out loud but had no time for that because, just as suddenly as before, there was what he could only assume to be her entrance over his mouth. _Is she literally sitting on my face?_ That's what it felt like. He was intoxicated – her scent was absolutely delicious. He absentmindedly darted his tongue out, licking her before she even told him to.

"That's right." She confirmed what she previously requested through body language. Her fingers crawled under his head and tangled into his hair, tugging it way too hard. Chandler let out a yelp – he could feel his dick twitching by itself down there, begging for attention but, at the same time, reacting to everything that was happening. "Keep your tongue out." He did as he was told, she kept his head from moving with the grip on his hair and started moving her own hips back and forth, thrusting her entrance against his tongue.

He couldn't tell anymore if all the moans filling the place belonged to her or to him – they were both being loud. Once again, her fingers left his hair out of the blue and her body left its previous position; Chandler found himself completely hot and bothered but also frustrated. _I wonder what's next, but I kind of expect it to be– oh my god, that's it._

She was so tight, _so tight_ , and as he felt her insides – deliciously warm and soaking wet – surround his dick, he was sure he would embarrass himself and come in a minute. He felt pressure on his chest – she was steadying herself by putting her hands onto his chest so that she could move her hips up and down. He felt his member getting out of her and entering her again, so very slowly, to the point where he felt he was about to go crazy.

"Please…" He attempted a word amidst the moaning and grunting. As her hips went up and down in a much faster pace, he could tell she was about to come and he really, _really_ needed to see it happen. He would never be satisfied with just imagining that. "Please, let me… let me see."

She didn't say anything, her ass slamming against his balls almost violently by now, and he lost hope of seeing that gorgeous face contort in pleasure but, unexpectedly, she took off his blindfold.

His brain needed a medal, if that made any sense. She looked exactly like real-life Monica, but so much hotter because she was all red and flushed from the sex. That image of her, bouncing onto his dick, gasping and moaning – that was by itself a gift, even if it wasn't real. Her lips were parted, her eyes shut, her short hair only a little messy (since he couldn't move his arms, he assumed that had been her own fingers pulling it when he was licking her before). She opened her eyes, and they stared at each other and right after he had what he wanted: that gorgeous face of hers contorted in pleasure, and she screamed his name while squirming, looking like she felt a great orgasm taking over her body. Of course he couldn't hold his own orgasm any longer after seeing _that_. Of course, too, he woke up right at that moment. His hand instinctively went down and it actually hurt when he touched his stiff penis. Masturbation was the only way to go after dreams like that.

The smell of coffee filled his nostrils and he knew it was time to get up and go get some breakfast at the apartment across the hall. However, as his mind was still packed with too many erotic images of his best female friend, he decided that pretending to oversleep and only leave his room to go directly to work was the best option for that day.


End file.
